by Renee George
Claire glanced at me. “Maybe,” she smiled anxiously. “I haven’t heard from them in a few days, but I’m sure the phone reception isn’t great where they are.”
“In the Bahamas?”
“Umm…yes,” she said, turning her gaze on me. “They’ll probably be home soon.” She looked back at the food line, where Mason, Ari, and Marco were scooping piles of food onto their plates. “That Mason is a good boy. When he came into our lives ten years ago, he really brightened my world. I always wanted more children, but it wasn’t in the stars. Children are so magical, don’t you agree?”
“Sure,” I said. As long as they’re someone else’s, I mentally added.
Claire nodded. “Why don’t you tell me about Ezra?”
Claire had zigged on me, when I’d expected a zag. I would have thought Mason or Kati had told her about him. “He’s kind, thoughtful,” I said. “Honest.” I leaned in “And if you wait a few minutes, you can ask him yourself when he gets back over here. He’s an open book.” At least, that had been my experience. It was one of the things I loved about him. I never had to guess with Ezra. Not about his past, and not about what he was thinking.
Why was his phone call taking so long? Were they able to pull something off the phone that was found in the pool? He ducked his head in and gave me a “Where the hell is Mason?” look. I pointed to the buffet and he saw his boy nestled between one of my besties and the twins. He nodded at me and went back to the hall.
Claire smiled fondly in Ezra’s direction. “I admire a man who pulls himself up by the bootstraps and makes his own way. From what Kati and Mason tell me, Ezra has had a fair bit to overcome. Only thirty-two, and already a detective. He’s impressive.”
She’d mentioned his age casually, so I tried not to take it wrong. I went back to Mason’s response to mine and Ezra’s age difference and let it console me. If it worked for men to fall in love with younger women, the opposite shouldn’t be a big deal. If only polite society would just fall in line with the same thinking.
Claire grinned as if assessing my thoughts. “I’m not judging. Big Don is younger than me by eight years. When we married, it was the scandal of the town. You’re an attractive woman, Nora. And smart. And strong-willed.” She put her hand over mine. She was about my mother’s age, maybe early to mid-seventies. But if I hadn’t known her, I would have put her in her mid-sixties, tops. Her brunette hair and glamor makeup were flawless. The only thing that really aged her were the spots on her hands. “You remind me a little of myself.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Claire.”
Movement behind Claire made me look up. I swallowed the hard knot in my throat as Phil Williams leaned down and brushed his lips over Claire’s cheek. Cripes. I’d been so focused between watching Ezra and Mason, I’d failed to notice a snake approaching.
“How are you tonight, beautiful?” He was talking to Claire, but he stared at me as he said it. “You look good enough to eat.” He nipped her ear with his teeth.
That compliment never sat well with me. It always conjured up images of women being roasted over open-fire spits, while men yanked hunks of flesh from the bodies to devour. Gross.
Claire cupped his face. “Don’t be cheeky,” she admonished him with a smile. “What are you up to tonight?”
“Just out here to enjoy the fireworks.” He raised a brow at me.
“Have you met Nora Black?” she asked.
Phil extended his hand. “Not formally,” he said with a wry smile. “How do you do, Nora Black?”
I gulped as the cuff of his jacket slid up his arm to reveal a watch with the GCE symbol on the face.
I didn’t take his hand. Instead, I nodded. “I do very well.”
He chuckled. “I’m sure you do.”
Claire looked back and forth between us. “Am I missing something? You two seem to have some history.”
“Nothing worth mentioning,” I said. “But Mr. Williams here wrongfully fired my best friend Gilly.”
“I admit I might have been hasty,” Phil agreed. “But she had been arrested for murder. Having a homicidal spa manager is bad for business.”
I bit my lip to keep myself from spitting in his face. He’d been the reason Lloyd had been killed; he’d known it wasn’t Gilly’s doing. “She’s better off away from the Rose Palace now, anyway. You did me a favor by letting her go. I’ve been trying to get her to go into business with me for months.”
Phil smirked, completely unfazed by my ire. “You’re welcome,” he said. “Maybe I can come up with a way for you to return the favor.” He dipped down and kissed Claire’s cheek again. “You ladies have a nice evening. I’ll see you around, Nora.”
I gave him the brightest and most sincere smile I could muster. “Not if I see you first.”
“Oh my,” Claire said, as the biggest criminal I knew, someone she was on cheek-kissing terms with, walked away. “That was some sizzle between you two. I didn’t know whether you were going to make out or kill each other.”
“I would never make out with Phil Williams,” I said flatly.
“He hurt your best friend.” She gave me an approving nod. “It’s understandable.” She squeezed my hand. “You have a lot of guts, Nora.”
Right now, I would have liked less guts since the current ones were in knots. I couldn’t stop thinking of Phil Williams and that damn watch. I hadn’t been privy to the list of GCE members that Reagan had provided the police, but that watch was confirmation Phil Williams was on the membership list. But Phil wasn’t a resort owner, not like Big Don. From what Gilly had told me, the Rose Palace was owned by an investment group. Phil merely managed the resort.
Phil wore a suit tonight, not exactly cowboy boot attire, and he had on patent leather loafers. I watched as Phil met with Big Don over by the chocolate fountain. He twirled a piece of pineapple on a stick as they talked. Then Phil ate the chocolate-covered pineapple hunk and followed Big Don out a side door.
“Nora,” Claire said. “You have a far-off expression on your face. What are you thinking about?”
“Where does that side door go?”
“The bathrooms and the open balcony. It’s a beautiful spot to watch the fireworks show.”
“Ah, bathroom,” I said. “That’s what I need.” I wasn’t going to be stupid and follow Big Don and Phil down some dangerous rabbit hole, but I did want to see where they were going. Minor recon only. And I’d take Gilly with me. Pippa and Jordy could watch the kids. That way I could tell Ezra when he got done with his call, and then he could do the investigating. “I’ll be right back.”
I’d motioned at Ezra to get his attention, but he waved me off. This was one serious phone call. It scared me to leave the crowded room of diners, but I didn’t believe any of the GCE would try anything as long as I stayed where people were congregating.
“Come on, Gilly,” I said.
“Where are we going?”
“To the bathroom.”
“Is your back acting up again? Do you need help with your pants?”
“Your worry is touching and super embarrassing, but no,” I added quickly. “I am employing the buddy system. There’s safety in numbers.”
There were several people milling about, so I felt safe enough to proceed. Pippa and Jordy would watch Mason and the twins. The end of the corridor opened to a large, stretched balcony overlooking the lake. I could see why Claire said it was the best seat in the house. There was a velvet rope across the open doors, with a sign that said, “VIP Members Only.”
I grabbed Gilly and flattened myself against the wall next to the women’s restroom. “Hide,” I said.
“Where?”
I moved her in front of me. “Let’s just act like we’re talking.”
“Nora, we are talking. We don’t need to act.”
Big Don, Phil Williams, Jameson Campbell, and Burt Adler had gathered down by the balcony entrance and were having a chat. They weren’t yelling, but if eyes could scream, I’d swear Bi
g Don would’ve been screaming at them all. Big Don got loud once and said, “I won’t go down for this.”
I put on my glasses then held my phone up like I was still texting, aimed it down the hall, and tried to record their interaction. Instead, I snapped a picture. It made a shutter noise.
“Stop that,” Gilly said.
“I’m trying to record them.”
“To what end?”
“One or more of those jerks tried to have me killed, and they are also responsible for Fiona’s death, and the death of her unborn child,” I said.
“I get it, but we can’t hear them, so all recording is going to do is draw attention our way.”
“Fine.” The four men finished their quiet conversation and started up the corridor in my direction. “Oh, crap, they’re coming this way.”
Gilly opened the women’s bathroom door and shoved me in. “Wait. I’ll tell you when the coast is clear.”
The toilet flushed, making me jump. My chest tightened with anxiety. I let out a breath of relief as Lucy “Lips” Campbell exited a stall. In the harsh glare of fluorescent lights, she looked haggard. And were her lips bigger than they had been this afternoon? Cripes. Did she have a plastic surgeon on standby?
She crossed to the mirror and fixed her lipstick. She smiled lazily. “Hello, Nora.”
“Hi, Lucy.”
She was wearing a pale-blue satin tank top that flattered her blonde hair and tan complexion. I made a show of washing my hands. “That color really suits you.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I like your top, too.”
“I got it at Nordstrom when I worked in the city.” I couldn’t help but notice she hadn’t washed her hands. It made me scrub my own hands twice as hard.
She put her lipstick away and gave her coif a final fluff. The motion moved her hair away from her ears, and I banged my thigh on the corner of the counter. Lucy Jameson had on a pair of ruby and diamond earrings, and they were a perfect match to Fiona’s ring. My throat constricted.
When she passed me, I saw a white powdery substance at the corner of her nose, and her pupils were dilated. “Is it cold in here?” she asked.
Was Lucy Campbell high? “The temperature is warm enough for me.”
This near, I saw some sores on her upper arms that she’d covered with makeup, making the scabs look like crusty warts. Her breath smelled like fruity rotten eggs, and I noticed that her teeth were just a little too perfect, most likely veneers. Why hadn’t I noticed at the McKays? Probably because I’d been focused on other things.
“Can I help you somewhere, Lucy? Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m always fine. Just ask Jameson. He’ll tell you.” I had to turn my head to avoid a direct hit of halitosis.
“Christ, pull yourself together, Aunt Lucy,” a girl says. “You need some serious help.”
A woman in a cornflower-blue sundress and honey-blonde hair holds out her hand. “Give me the damn memory stick, Fiona. I can’t believe you stole it from me. After all I’ve done for you.”
“You mean like getting me my first taste of meth? Yeah, you’ve been stellar. My life is in shambles thanks to you.”
“I didn’t force you to do it.”
“I looked up to you. You were the cool aunt. I thought…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m getting my money and I’m getting as far away from you and everyone else in Garden Cove as soon as possible.”
“He’ll never pay you,” Lucy seethed, her hands balled into fists. “You won’t see a dime.”
“You better make sure he does,” said Fiona. “Or I’ll ruin you both.”
A man comes into the room. He’s wearing red and black cowboy boots. “What are you two getting up to?”
I blinked as the memory went away. Holy horrifying reveals, Jameson Campbell was Boot Guy.
Lucy’s wide eyes were staring me down. “You know. Don’t you? Fiona was pregnant with my husband’s baby.” She beat her fist against her chest. “My husband. I loved that girl. She was like my very own niece. And she betrayed me.”
“It takes two to tango,” I said. “And you loved her so much you got her hooked on drugs.”
“I didn’t make her.” Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean…I just wanted to hurt him. Hurt them. Like they hurt me.” She threw her arms around me in a desperate hug. I thought it was to keep from falling down—until I felt two sharp stings go into my back, then there was a crippling jolt of pain that brought me hard to my knees.
Chapter 22
Wahshabah…” My mouth tingled as my torso jerked spasmodically. What the ever-loving hell was happening? When the pain stopped, I gaped at Lucy as she held me tight. Cripes, the woman was strong. She showed me a hot-pink personal Taser.
“I’m sorry, Nora. I didn’t want to do this.” Her glazed eyes stared at me. “Any of it.”
It certainly felt like she wanted to do it. I tried to go loose and fall away from her, but she hit me again with the Taser, and the increased voltage sent agonizing shocks through my entire body. My heart was in my throat, and my breath exploded from my lungs when the shocks finally subsided. “Stop, please,” I panted, hoarse with pain. “No more.”
She moved the contact points to my upper back. “It’ll be over soon.”
Did she think she was going to stun me to death? That’s not how stun guns worked. Although, people weren’t made to withstand multiple hits of electricity in a short period of time. So maybe it would kill me. And maybe, I’d just wish I was dead.
My gaze darted back and forth as I tried to find something, anything that could help me, but Lucy zapped me again.
A series of grunts stuttered from my throat, each shock more vicious than the last, until my nerves were too overwhelmed to function right. My peripheral vision started to dim. My eyelids fluttered. Don’t go under, I told myself. Stay awake. Stay awake. I knew that stun gun effects didn’t last long, and the only way I would escape my second maniac of the day was to not let myself pass out.
Cripes! I was tempted to suggest she knock my head in. It was quicker and would hurt less. “You…don’t…” My breaths were coming too hard and fast. Damn it. I was hyperventilating. My tongue felt as if it were made of cotton, but I tried again. “Doh…nt.”
The door opened behind us. A fresh surge of hope ran through me as Gilly poked her head in. “Nora, coast is—” Her eyes flew wide. “Nora!”
Lucy went full-on narcotic ninja. She shrieked, dropped me to the floor, then kicked the door, sending Gilly back out into the corridor, the door slamming shut. She turned the bolt lock.
“Hel…hell…” Jayzus! I couldn’t get the freaking word “help” out.
Gilly was banging on the door now, hollering my name. Then she stopped suddenly. Or maybe I’d lost my hearing from the many tasings.
“Drowning you would be quicker,” Lucy said on a maniacal laugh. Her tone turned vicious. “If these toilets can easily accommodate that high and mighty head of yours.”
I tried to crawl toward the door—Death by Swirly would not be the headline of my obituary—but Lucy grabbed my leg and started hauling me toward the first stall.
I let out a strangled sound.
Seriously stoned Lucy never faltered. She was cool as a freaking cucumber as she yanked me around and shoved me through the door.
“Nooo,” I managed to grate out. I tasted the tang of warm blood in my mouth, and realized I’d bitten my tongue. I tried to hook my feet on the door as she towed me into the stall. But then the cow zapped me again.
Icy terror slid through me as Lucy’s determination matched mine in a battle of wills.
“We’re coming, Nora. Hang on,” I heard Gilly shout from behind the door.
The effects of the Taser were wearing off. Or maybe I was becoming immune from her constant inoculations.
Lucy was mumbling to herself now about how when this was all over, things could go back to the way they were. The woman was
having a complete mental meltdown, and she was going to take me with her.
I heard several people yelling beyond the door as Lucy shoved me up against the commode.
My breathing had somehow righted itself, and I could talk again with effort. I had to find a way to get through to Lucy, to stop her before she pushed me—well, my head—into the toilet, literally to the point of no return. She was high and heartbroken. I needed to say something that would give her pause. I hated that I’d let her get the upper hand in the first place. I knew how to defend myself, but that required having control of my limbs.
Lucy got down on her knees beside me and grabbed my hair to push my face into the water. I said the first thing I could think of to make her stop. “It…it wasn’t…” Oh, God, my lungs felt like they were on fire, but I forced the rest out. “Not Jame…son’s baby.”
I had no idea if it was true or not, but it worked. Lucy stopped trying to push my head into the blue water. “What?” The hope in her eyes frightened me. The woman was deranged. “Fiona wasn’t pregnant with Jameson’s baby?”
I shook my head. “Not…his.”
“That’s good. She still had to die,” she said almost sadly. “And so do you. Then everything will be okay.”
The restroom door banged open. “Let her go!” Gilly said, as she, Pippa, and Claire appeared at the open stall door.
“Lucy? What the hell are you doing?” asked Claire with the bathroom key in her hand. “Let her go. You’re hurting her.”
“That’s the point,” said Lucy, grabbing a handful of my hair as she pointed the Taser at the three ladies. “She’s got to die. The last one,” she slurred. “Promise.”
Claire reared back, dumbfounded. “Lucy. Why are you doing this?”
“She’s…crazy,” I managed. Speaking of crazy, why had Gilly enlisted Claire and Pippa for help? Why not get Ezra? “Ez—”
Lucy put the Taser against my throat. “Shut up,” she snapped.
It had been a minute since the last jolt, and I’d regained some strength back in my arms. I steeled my will and waited for my chance. It came when the door slammed open again, and Ezra charged inside, weapon drawn.